1 comments/ 74630 views/ 1 favorites Bringing Sarah Home By: atkins I'm not proud of what I did. You might think that I'm some kind of sick voyeur or pervert or sex-starved, or frustrated. Or all of those things. And you might be right. All I know is I was tired of my 55-year old wife not responding in the bedroom anymore. When she was younger, she would have wonderful, screaming, dogs-barking, sirens-wailing, children-crying orgasms. But as she got older, the frequency fell off more and more. These days, it was practically non-existent. Oh, sure, we had sex. I had even managed to condition myself so I could pound away at her old pussy for a half-hour or longer before spilling my load. She seemed to enjoy the ride but she never got "over the hump", "visited happyland," "paid the dues," "saw fireworks" or whatever term du jour she was using these days to say she hadn't cum -- and I did. Okay, if I wasn't so damned horny I would have given up long ago. I mean, who wants to work so hard to get your woman off and still discover that she not only didn't cum, but she was angry at you because you did? I had to try something new. I have always been faithful to Sarah and we'd been married almost 32 years. As far as I know, she has always been faithful to me but she had a playful, even naughty side to her. She was seldom shocked by anything we saw in the movies, television or real life. She was a world class cock sucker, enthusiastically took it up the ass (I loved when she would pull me into her rectum, afraid I would slip out) and was willing to watch porn, read dirty books, anything to build up the excitement. But she never took that final leap. I figured it was my job to go to the next level -- and get her off. And I had an idea. Sometimes Sarah would flirt with the young man across the street. She wouldn't call it flirting but it used to piss me off that she would cross the street to talk about problems we were having with crabgrass in our front yard or the difficulty in keeping an old house maintained or commiserate about the sorry state of public utilities. Sam was coming off a divorce. I never saw his wife but he was left with enough money (rare enough in a divorce!) to buy the nice two-storey across from us. He kept it well maintained. Sam especially liked to take his shirt off while mowing the lawn or hauling sprinklers around to keep the grass green. Sarah would watch him sometimes when she didn't know I was looking but would never do it when I was there. She was sensitive to my, well, insecurity, and I loved her for it. Sam would go out on most weekends and every so often it was clear he had a "guest" spending the night with him. All in all, he was a good neighbor who went to work every morning, was quiet, friendly and helpful in an emergency (like the time he took me to get my tire repaired) and kept his place looking nice. I found myself slowly moving from anger to arousal by my wife, Sarah's, conversations with him and her spying when he was in the yard. I think Sam was at least a little aware of her casual flirting but he didn't make much of it and never did anything about it. "I think Sam likes you," I offered to Sarah one day. She blushed a little and said, "That's silly. He's less than half my age." "Maybe, " I said, "But I bet he knows the way home. I bet he could get you over the hump." I couldn't bring myself to say what I was thinking to the woman I lived with for more than 3 decades. But just when you think you know someone, they surprise you. "Well . . . " she was flustered and this surprised me a little. So she had thought about it too! Then she looked me right in the eye with a little, guilty smirk. "Yes, maybe he could." Although I had set myself up for this, I was a little crestfallen by her response. She was effectively saying that I wasn't man enough to get her to cum but maybe a new, young man's cock drilling her cunt would do the job. I was both thrilled and repulsed at the same time and wondered for a moment if she was simply playing with me but Sarah's clear-eyed stare made it obvious she was not. We had been married long enough to understand the meaning of unspoken agreements. When you've lived with someone for as long as we had, you didn't need to put everything in writing. Sarah was saying she was ready to spread her legs for our neighbor, Sam . . . "Of course, " she interrupted my musings , "you'd have to be there too." The idea of standing in the same room as the man fucking my wife and watching them go at it, oblivious to my presence, was wildly arousing and I decided to move this little adventure into the next phase. Let me tell you about Sarah. She's about 5-4 and 150 pounds or so (she won't go near a scale so I'm guessing). While she was never what you would call a beauty even when young, she was always well-proportioned with nice wide hips, great tits and short, but shapely legs. In her mid 50's now, she was rounder than she used to be and had a little paunch, soft but saggy ass and great melons of breasts, topped by nipples that responded to a gentle touch with involuntary pelvic thrusting. I have always found her physically attractive and a truly sexual being but of course she was more than that. She was my wife. She was off limits. Mine alone. Virginal (in a manner of speaking) to my cock alone. Now all that was about to change. There was one other thing about Sam I failed to mention earlier. He was a handyman of sorts. Various people in our neighborhood would employ his services to repair plumbing, level a crooked door jamb or replace a broken window. He would charge a nominal fee (probably went to his ex!) and do a good job for you. I don't do much handyman work but I never felt comfortable having Sam in my house so I would pay someone else, but now I thought I would use his skills to further my scheme. Enter a new character: my mother Susan. She lived by herself about 5 miles from our house in a nice home in a nice neighborhood filled with nice people. A real white-bread lifestyle. She was getting up in years now -- mid 70s -- but was still able to get around pretty well by herself. She did her own shopping and was able to manage the affairs of a household pretty well. When she told me of a broken sliding glass door just off her bedroom, I decided to set my plan into action. I suggested Sam could fix that for her but that it might be a little messy. She might want to visit friends or go out to lunch or something when he was doing the work. She agreed, thanked me, and I made arrangement with Sam to stop by next weekend while she was out. I made it clear to Sarah what I was doing and she made it clear to me that she would be there to "assist" Sam with his work -- as long as I was close by. I was angry at her eagerness to take part in this seduction and filled with lust at the prospect of seeing my wife with another man at the same time. I convinced myself that this would help our marriage and that I wasn't really being cuckolded if I was setting the whole thing up! That Saturday Sarah seemed surprisingly calm. She put on a simple top but found some shorts she could still get into that showed off her attractive legs. I was annoyed that she was calmly singing in the shower that morning as she shaved her legs and washed her hair but I was stunned at the assertiveness of my erection. She looked good but there was no denying this was a middle-aged woman. Sarah just smiled at me, touched my chin affectionately then unbuttoned the top button of her blouse to show just a bit of the lacy beige bra which was about one size too small for her. Then we were off to her mother's home to await Sam. Fortunately, her mother had already gone out (good thing too -- I don't think she would have approved of Sarah's attire). Sarah calmly picked up a magazine and sat in a chair in the corner of her mother's bedroom. She was coldly analytical of the situation in a way that was quite unlike her. She said it would probably be best if I hid in the bathroom when Sam arrived so he wouldn't see me but -- and this assuaged my feelings a little -- it was important that I be there near the bedroom door if things took the expected turn. She wanted me close by -- and I wanted to be there too, god help me. My heart was pounding and Sam was about half an hour late. I hid in the shower and heard Sarah open the door and cheerfully welcome our handyman. He seemed surprised to see her at her mother's house. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice," Sarah said without the least bit of nervousness. Hiding in the shower, my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. Then there was silence and Sam said "Thanks, I wish all my customers were as appreciative." Sarah had kissed him on the cheek and I remembered thinking, "if you only knew..." "Follow me," Sarah said, and I knew she was wagging her sweet little ass in front of Sam down the hallway toward her mother's bedroom. I quietly slipped out of my hiding place and followed. What I saw shocked and angered me -- at first anyway. Sarah had one arm around Sam's neck and was planting a long kiss on his mouth, then a series of short ones to -- I guess -- gauge his reaction to her aggression. She needn't have worried. He dropped his tools right there on the bedroom floor and took Sarah into his arms, pulling her ass toward him and she -- I swear to god! -- sighed and swooned like a school girl as he kissed her mouth. There was no tentativeness here. I could see tongues intertwined in both mouths like snakes seeking escape then he forced a free hand up to her chest to gently massage her right tit and Sarah kissed him harder still as he did this then pulled away -- he still holding her covered breast -- and boldly reached down to grab his crotch. "That's something I've wanted to do for a long time, Sam," and she rocked her hand on his growing erection. "You are formidable," she said in her best French accent, then coyly looked up at him. "I've wondered about your cock ever since that first day I saw your bare chest across the street. Have you wondered about me, Sam?" I was again swept by the contrary emotions of anger and lust, disgust and curiosity. I don't' know if Sam wondered about her or not but he certainly didn't have to wonder now. A man of few words, Sam began unbuttoning Sarah's blouse in a careful, workmanlike way and she shamefully thrust her breasts forward as he did so There was my wife, the love of my life, chubby but delicious Sarah stroking Sam's erection through his work pants with those beautiful fingers, the same fingers that had held my cock and my cock alone for so many years. Sam bent over and kissed Sarah's neck and slowly eased off one bra strap, then the other while she rolled her head on her neck like someone possessed. She may have wanted me nearby during this exercise but she certainly wasn't paying me any attention. I felt shamed as a man that my neighbor Sam was having his way with my woman while I simply watched and did nothing, nothing except develop a raging hardon myself. Though bursting with contrary emotions, I had to admire the fact that Sam undressed my wife with the same deliberation and competence as he used to repair a broken door bell. There was no hurrying. He slipped off the bra straps, kissed each shoulder, then her mouth -- and she came to a furious, hungry life when he touched her lips -- then the other shoulder, before he oh-so-slowly unplopped first one tit, then the other. Now my wife was topless and being assaulted by this handsome young man, holding his head to her breast like Cleopatra holding an asp to hers. So help me, I believed I could smell the sweet anticipatory scent of sex in that room although Sarah was still clothed from the waist down and Sam was completely clothed. Whether there was a real scent or not, there was no denying the feral hunger in that room. Sarah's beautiful breasts swung free as he licked each nipple in turn. I could still see the pressure marks from her too-tight bra as he tongued her. "Bite it, sweetheart," said Sarah as though she were talking to a small child. "Bite my tits a little." She was now rubbing Sam's pants-covered crotch with greater and greater energy and I could see the disgusting, fascinating, glorious spectacle of my wife working this man's erection to its fullest extension so it looked as though he was hiding an orange in his pants. "That's it, darling. That's it..." as Sam's long tongue flicked at each nipple, then nipped at each one gingerly before moving to the other. Sarah had a beatific smile on her face, eyes closed, hand still probing at Sam's crotch, the other arm on his head as he suckled at her bountiful bosom. Still smiling, she opened her eyes -- still never looked at me in the door -- and unhooked Sam's belt then unzipped his pants, allowing the aroused monster inside to escape. And what a monster it was! Now I was really starting to feel inadequate. He was huge. I had to fight every instinct in my body to keep from running in on the two of them and pulling him away. Something deep and primal did not want that . . . that thing to penetrate the womb of my sweet wife of 32 years. And another part of me wanted to see her punished with the weapon. Sam was breathing heavily now, as was Sarah. As was I. She moved him toward her mother's bed and the two of them fell down on it, still kissing, sucking, probing and Sarah all the time trying to grab the terrible cock of the handyman as though she needed it for sustenance. When Sam took a break from his labors at her chest, Sarah unceremoniously pulled Sam's pants down completely and now the great cock sprung to attention straight up, pointing at the ceiling fan. "Oh, my god, honey. That is magnificent!" and she had her sweet mouth over the glans and down the shaft as far as it would go, slurping and flicking at the tip while Sam started showing for the first time some real, unfettered passion. "Jesus, God," he screamed. "Oh . . . oh . . . Sarah..." She was flicking her manicured nails against Sam's hairy ball sack while saliva dripped down his shaft. From time to time she would move her hand to his hard abs and trace the outlines of his powerful muscles, then attack his cock with even greater enthusiasm and saying . . . something . . . "Come on, baby. Come on, baby. Come on sweetheart," she was urging Sam's cum but that wasn't really necessary either because in a short time, he had blown it all in the mouth of the woman who said "I love you" to me so many times from those same lips and as he did, her eyes closed and she slobbered at him even more, taking it all, licking down to the scrotum. "That's right, my love," she said, over and over until I couldn't stand it, and Sam was delirious and I knew I must do something. "What is going on here?" Sarah's mother Susan had come home and amid all the noise and thunder here, I had heard nothing. For a moment I had to laugh and wonder -- how do you answer such a question? I swear I saw Sarah look toward the door and wink in our direction but if she did, she didn't look our way for long. She was practically laughing as Sam sliced his hands inside her shorts and somehow positioned his mouth against her crotch and chewed at the fabric while Sarah's mother Susan and I looked on incredulously. Sarah's old mother Susan and I looked on like two dumbstruck fools -- which I guess we were. Of course, I knew Susan for many years and had secretly lusted for her off and on over the decades but there was never the least indication that there was any interest or even any passion there. None. Not even jokes or wicked smiles. Nothing. Until now. As if this craziness wasn't strange enough, I managed a look at Susan staring at the writhing form of her daughter, my wife, wrestling in happy obliviousness to our presence, decadent and shameless. Right now she was trying to bite and lick Sam's tightly muscled ass while he tried to pull her shorts off. Covers were flying in all directions as they simultaneously disrobed and hungrily grabbed, bit and sucked each other's flesh. But Susan, whom I thought at first was in shock, was actually entranced by this scene. Wide-eyed, she stood taking the sad, wicked play in as though she could do nothing but watch . . . but then . . . but then . . . I saw something I certainly did not expect to see. It was subtle but its meaning was unmistakable. This 75-year old matron almost absently let her right hand drift across her breasts and rest for just a moment between her legs, then she quickly dropped it to her side, looked back at me briefly a little guiltily. "Sarah! Sarah! How can you? This is the bed of my dear, dead husband, your father!" I could tell Sarah wanted to scream this in righteous indignation but it seemed to die out at the end, just as Sam pulled Sarah's shorts off (she was wearing no underwear at all, the wicked bitch!) and buried his lips on her ass, lapping at her asshole like a councilman slurping soup. "Yes, yes, yes," said Sarah, ignoring it all. "Eat my asshole Sam! It's yours, my sweet. Lick it. Love it. Eat me all over...." There was no way of telling if Sam heard her plea as his ears were practically buried between her ass cheeks. Now he was able to work a finger between Sarah's pliable legs, then two, then three and finally his entire hand was plunging in and out of her sopping cunt while she rode it hard, like a horse that would finally take her home. Although I didn't know what my mother Susan was thinking, I was jolted in a hundred directions from the anger, confusion, lust, fascination, envy, shame, of it all. Susan, just on this side of elderly, was standing bolt upright as if her posture and discipline would convey her anger. But was she angry? We had always had a somewhat distant relationship fors. We shared a chaste kiss on birthdays, holidays and before long trips. She would sign cards "fondly" or "affectionately" but never "Love, Susan." As a result, I guess, I never really saw her as a relative. She was just a woman in my life, sexless, even joyless, but not unpleasant. So why did I reach out to her now? I was standing behind her as we both watched the spectacle, listened to the moans and obscene slurps, the filthy encouragements, when I touched her bare shoulder where the red sweater she wore to lunch clung to her shoulder. I wish I could say she melted but she did quite the opposite. Susan's frame froze even more, which I didn't believe was possible. But I didn't care. Sarah and Sam were now taunting each other -- "put your dick there, put your dick there. Let me feel it. Yes, oh yes... -- and the noise overwhelmed everything else. I bent over and whispered in Susan's ear. "Our world has turned upside down, " I said. Then I rubbed the back of my hand against her old face, remarkably soft, and she leaned against it for a moment before backing off again. Sarah and Sam were naked now and all over each other. He was licking her toes while she bit at his rock hard calves and slapped his ass. They were a flurry of activity but then in stopped in one motion so that Susan and I couldn't help but look on to see what would happen next. What happened next is Sarah knelt on the bed and thrust out her crotch at the panting figure of Sam, playing with her clit with one finger while licking her other with her tongue at the same time. "Come on, Sammy" she said. "Eat me right. I want to see the big, beautiful tongue buried down deep in my cunt and slurping my like an ice cream cone. Come on Sammy. Let's see if you can make Sarah cum before this day is over," and she pumped her crotch at him while her breathing increased even more, her big beautiful breasts which I had sucked and enjoyed for so many years flapping against her chest like an afterthought. It was a picture so obscene that I felt as if I was in a dream and nothing had any consequence . . . Bringing Sarah Home It was Sarah's complete dismissal of me that led me to swiftly and decisively put my hand inside the red sweater of my mother Susan and feel the soft, warm teat that had nursed my loving wife who was right now spreading her labial lips for Sam's satyr mouth to feast upon. As he closed in on her, I closed my hand on Susan's breast and rubbed her nipple with my thumb. "Please . . . please don't," she pleaded. But it was the cry of someone impotent to stop me, however sincere. Then . . . "Oh . . ." and she grabbed at her crotch through her dress, turned around despite me and ran into the bathroom where I had been hiding earlier. But I was not about to give up my quarry so easily. In the bathroom, Susan didn't even close the door and I saw her removing her panties which were soaked, not with sexual juices as I had hoped, but with urine. The whole scene had caused her to lose control of her bladder which I found touching but, so depraved was my mood, also arousing. Susan didn't even notice me as she lifted one leg on the toilet seat and began wiping the pee off her leg with the discarded panty. There was a slight scent of urine, sure enough, but also . . . something else. It was the unmistakable aroma of aroused womanhood. I took the balled up panty from my old mother and she muttered "Oh" again for the second time in a minute, but didn't fight me at all. "Such a lovely leg," I said and I didn't know why as I took the panty and rubbed that fine leg all the way down to the ankle and all the way up to a surprisingly bushy cunt, and then between the folds of her pussy, moving the cotton underwear in and out as though I wanted to do the best possible cleaning job before sending her on her way. But of course, I had no intention of sending my mother on her way. "We can't be doing this," she managed to say. "My wife is fucking another man on your bed," I said. "She doesn't care about me. She doesn't care about you. All we have is . . . one another." "You are my . . . son..." "Your breasts feel like warm, creamy butter, Susan . . . " "It's . . . incest, isn't it?" "Your pussy," and I was whispering in her ear now, dropping the panty and massaging her cunt with three fingers, "is warm and so neglected. I want to taste it so. Tell me I can, Susan. Tell me you want me to." Susan was not showing a lot of emotion but she wasn't moving either. Her leg was still on top of the toilet seat while I had one arm around her waist and the other hand working in and out of her below. It couldn't have looked more bizarre. "So much is wrong," she whispered, turning her face to mine for the first time. "Let's make it right, then." It was the most erotic thing that ever happened to me when she simply nodded her head. I closed on her like a wild puma on a crippled antelope. My heart was pounding wildly in my ears, even wilder as this 75-year old woman hiked her skirt just the smallest amount and I threw my open mouth against her crotch as though I were going to devour her whole. I pressed my nose against her kinky pubic hair and flicked at her vaginal opening lightly and then with more and more force, scraping my bottom teeth along the engorged vaginal lips, grunting loudly like the demonic animal I had become. Susan only said "Oh" and pushed her crotch at me. At one point, she seemed to almost lose her balance and I quickly put a restraining hand on the small of her back, feeling briefly along the slightly sagging buttocks cheeks and loving the warmth and softness I found there. At some point, it was clear that this posture was just too uncomfortable for her and me although I really hated leaving her elderly garden of delights. I withdrew my head quickly from beneath her skirt and I saw her own head was thrown back and her eyes were closed. On the face of the church-going old woman was the clear flush of excitement. She slowly opened her eyes and looked down at me -- not with welcoming, anger or even confusion. It was just a distant look of hardness, of lust and something else... Yes, that was it. Acceptance. "Do with me," she finally said, reinforcing my read of her aged eyes, "what you will" and she unashamedly put a finger in her pussy. At that moment a wild harmonic moan from Sam and Sarah spilled out of the bedroom and we both looked in that direction. Susan was wobbling slightly and she sat down on the toilet seat while I kissed her warm exposed shoulders, then stuffed my free right hand under her skirt again where it found her hand gently but insistently diddling her cunt. I pushed her head back and kissed, then licked at her neck ("Suck it! Suck it!" Sarah was screaming from the next room) and finally I fell on her mouth, the same mouth that had been supping on her womanhood just moments ago. I could taste her pussy juice again as I pressed against her lips, wondering that this was the mouth I had kissed most chastely for some30-odd years now. So close to her I was now that for the first time I was able to see the effects of her age close up. There were wrinkles, yes, but her skin seemed smooth at the same time. Scents of lavender mixed obscenely with her own sexual juices and she was beginning to respond to my lustful kisses with an increasingly aching and active tongue. Sometimes I would see her open eyes, now filled with determination, frenzy and a new lust that ached to be satisfied. I removed my hand from her twat, wiped it casually on her skirt then pushed it under the red sweater and a wonderful ripe tit popped into my hand like a soft, pink mango. I pushed her sweater up and delighted at the hard nipple, pointing down at the end of her saggy breast, then licked and sucked at it with increasing fury as I recalled Sam's assault on my own wife's welcoming hangers. Susan closed her eyes, threw her head back then ever so gently pulled my head into her breasts with her aged and veined hand that was soft and papery at the same time. The sweater fell over my eyes and finally, in frustration, I ripped it over her head and she screamed a delightful, ugly, tasty little scream that said "I am being debauched and I want it." Aroused even further by this, I stood up and pulled down my pants and my erection spilled before old Susan's face like a taunting finger. I didn't let it linger long. Instead I grabbed my cock in both hands and slapped it against the inside of her breasts. At first she simply looked at it curiously, then threw her head back again and then, as if she had suddenly had an idea, she opened her eyes and leaned over and began flicking at the wagging cock with her tongue. I was so incredibly excited at seeing my mother's long, thin tongue flicking left and right at my cock, trying to catch it, that I thought I would spill my load on her right then. Instead, I let her catch it once and she tentatively licked at the cum slot, then put her wrinkled lips briefly around the tip and nibbled gingerly like someone tasting a new ice cream flavor. "Lick my cock, Susan," I said breathlessly. I wasn't sure how she would take this but, in retrospect, I would have to say pretty well. At those words she became even more animated, taking almost the full length of me although it was clearly uncomfortable in the tight confines of the bathroom and the toilet seat. "Suck me, my pretty Susan," I said eagerly, encouraged by her response and I reached down and began fingering her cunt again, now much juicier than before. She surprised me by placing her hand over mine and working my fingers for me like someone who, well, had done something like this before. "What a sweet, sweet pussy," I said as my elderly mother tongued me even more enthusiastically so that her great, aged dugs were flapping against her chest while I pistoned a whole handful of fingers in and out of her soppy twat. Finally she pulled herself away from my cock, her lips red, her breath coming in short gasps. I was still taking her fuck hole with my fingers but she managed to have enough composure to smooth her tits against her chest as though she were reinforcing a crease in her skirt before walking into church. "Animals!" she said to my surprise and I was worried she might be referring to me -- to us -- but her reinforcing smile up at me while I still worked at her cunt (she closed her eyes, smiled and sighed briefly) let me know that she was referring to her wanton daughter in the next room, a room that was strangely quiet now. "I want you in me with your . . . with your cock," she was clearly comfortable saying it now and that aroused me enough to jam my fingers into her even further and she grunted and may have winced a little. "But not here. I want her to see what she's done!" Indeed, things had taken a strange turn but Susan was insistent, insistent enough to pull my fingers out of her, take my pussy-juice covered hands in hers and stand up. I pulled off my shirt and threw it to the floor and stepped out of my shoes. Now we were both naked and face to face. She pulled my face to hers and gave me a long, probing kiss while gingerly stroking my erection with her other hand. "Maybe we can surprise them a little bit," Susan said as she pulled away. We walked down the hallway to her bedroom where Sarah and Sam were destroying the sanctity of my marriage on the bed of her parents. One look explained why I hadn't heard anything recently. They were "69-ing" on the bed with a gentle passion that was probably exhaustion as much as anything. When Sarah caught sight of us in the doorway, she renewed her former energetic slurping. Then I experienced something even stranger on this strangest of days. It was something I've seen in movies but never experienced personally. I thought it was just an artistic film device, but it really can happen. It happened to me. My world slowed down. Everything slowed down. Sarah and Sam's gyrations were slow and slushy but I could see the beads of sweat flying from his forehead as he champed at the pussy door of my (formerly) sweet Sarah. I watched her long, languorous drawing on the massive cock of her new lover, Sam, and I could see her tits flopping in diverse directions in slow motion, the nipples hard, the eyes -- when open at all -- looking far off and rolling in their sockets as the beast Sam with his outsized dick expertly nipped and sucked and tongued his way into those areas that -- until today -- were mine alone. But that wasn't all there was to this show. My old mother ever-so-slowly dropped her squishy ass to the edge of her bed, turned her head in exaggerated slow motion to view the debauchery on the other side of her own bed (I couldn't believe how Sarah was able to take the entire length of Sam's appendage in her tiny mouth and pull at it like she was sucking the last drops of precious water after a desert march), then she turned back to me, almost lovingly brushed my now-drooping cock and then took my hand and placed it on her breast and smiled up at me. Even the noises were slow growls -- just like you see in the movies -- with no clearly-identifiable sounds or words. Then Susan, in the same time-is-slowed fashion, lay down on her side as easily and naturally as though she were settling in for an innocent night's sleep. Even in my slow motion state, however, I could see the mattress undulating up and down from my sweet wife's exertions as Susan calmly patted the place next to her on the bed, inviting me to lay down. Could this have been more otherworldly? I don't think so. There I was laying down next to my elderly mother while my wife and neighbor lay right next to us, sucking and probing each other's bodies with reckless abandon. In this slow motion world, it seemed to take forever for me to lie beside Susan and when we did, I was inches from her face, could sense her soft, warm breath and noted how her untoned paunch rested in a fleshy heap, hiding the chunky old hole I had assaulted with my fingers what seemed like years ago now. She was leaning closer to me, whispering something in my ear. Low, animal sounds. I couldn't make them out but over her soft but age-speckled shoulder I could see the man who was cheerfully cuckolding me tonguing my wife's ass as she laughed and screamed out something -- was it, "yes, yes!" and then he started biting at her ass, slapping her and she pressed her old, droopy fanny at Sam who proceeded to bury his face in her crack . . . My erection had returned with a vengeance and then I realized that Susan's almost arthritic hand was slowly working me and saying . . . something. What was it? "It was always you...?" What did that mean? Then my world sped up once again and everything came crashing down, the sounds, the visions, everything. The slurping of Sam and my dear Sarah was almost deafening but I heard the bastard Sam screaming as my wife swallowed his ball sac, then popped it out like an unfinished jaw breaker. Sam retaliated by slapping her white ass and all she could say was "eat me some more. Lick my asshole, Sam" and he did. Part of me was crazily, absurdly embarrassed that my 70+ year-old mother had to hear this. But then . . . but then . . . maybe it gave her ideas. Wait. Now I could hear her clearly. "I used my . . . my friend for many years late at night. But it was always you I thought of. It was you that was coming into me. It was you who vibrated in my womb until the batteries would die and I would finally sleep with the thought of your hard penis deep inside me." Susan was whispering in my ear, pumping my cock faster and faster. "It was you," she said, "who did so many unspeakable things to me . . . I never thought the dream would be true." Despite everything ("I'm cumming, I'm cumming, goddammit!" Sam was finally, mercifully screaming to anyone who cared to hear while Sarah of the soft and pliable mouth gorged herself on his lust and his great fuckstick) I was shocked to hear those words from Susan. This was Susan who would offer a prayer before every holiday meal, carefully wrap up Christmas gifts, birthday gifts and wedding presents to family members, Susan who still baked blueberry pies and (my favorite) devil's food cake from scratch. Now she smiled and laid back on the bed, her elderly tits falling to either side of her surprisingly smooth and even young-looking, if untoned, body. And with her fingers (I never noticed before how delicate and lovely they were!) she beckoned me on top of her while, at the same time, Sam and Sarah, panting and grunting, took a break to gaze on this newest debauchery. I could see Sam looking at me and at Susan and he even managed to brush one of her tits splayed across her body but he didn't gloat. He didn't smile. Laying on his side, my soft-bodied wife behind him, I saw the hardness of his body carved by his young years and physical labor, his dark, hard belly contrasting with my soft, white flesh that was just now settling down against the old paunch of my mother. My cock easily penetrated her soppy twat and Susan bit her lip slightly as though she were pained just as I began forcing my rock-hard member in and out of her in slow time. Something caught my eye, even as I started. Everything had grown quiet except for the slurping noise of cock against aroused cunt. I saw my wife Sarah rubbing her crotch against the backside of Sam, licking his back and his neck and whispering, although I could hear it easily enough. "I need you to bring me home, my wonderful cock-man. I want it in me, way in me, in places I've never felt before, then I want you to paint me inside with your sweet, delicious cum. Sam, fuck me." I was so angry at this almost plaintive request to be pleasured by this over-endowed stranger that I angrily began pounding at Susan's twat until I finally felt her soft hand on my chest. "Enough, darling," she said and while my wife Sarah was positioning herself to ride Sam's tower of cock flesh, I was forced to stop my fucking of her mother. "It's been a long time," Susan said. "Too long, I guess. You're bumping into things that seem to have settled into places that they shouldn't be." I slid off, rubbing my mother's soft, fleshy paunch and watched Sarah bite her lip (just like her mother!) as she eased onto Sam who had both hands behind his head in preparation for my wife's ride. The ride started slow and Sarah's hair flew around her face as she at first laughed, then began biting her own hair, closing her eyes and gyrating on the great dick of the handyman beneath her. "Let's try something else," said my mother after looking over at Sarah and Sam, the bed beginning to shake anew with their exertions. She grabbed by cock, lovingly, stroked it with her aged hands and then pushed her face against my chest momentarily. "Lay on your back," she said. Now I was laying on the bed next to Sam as he fucked my wife who was nodding, then shaking her head happily ("a magnificent cock, a great, great fuck!") when my mother climbed on top of me. I had expected to feel her labial lips stretch over my dick head but to my great surprise, she put my engorged cock, slippery with her juices, into her ass by slow stages until finally I was in her rectum up to my ball sac and Susan, with eyes closed, was moaning so loudly and gyrating her head so fitfully I was almost worried something was wrong. "This is my dream," she was muttering, almost to herself. "This is you in me the way I want you. " Now she looked down at me and was almost grandmotherly, her flabby arms holding onto my chest, her tits flicking at my belly as the bed shook. "This is what I wanted," she said. "THIS," she said, reinforcing the word, "is what I wanted. Now," she said, smiling, at ease, finally, "Fuck my ass like my dear husband used to do. Fuck my ass until it hurts and don't stop until YOU'RE ready. Do it." So many contrary emotions raced through me. I looked up at the sweet but also wildly animal face of Susan, her cheeks slightly flushed, the scent of arousal wafting up from her moist cunt. I wrapped my hands around her fleshy ass, pulled my torso back into the mattress, then forced my hardon into Susan's ass as my mother's face became something otherworldly, mad, possessed, wanting and so, so arousing. "I'm fucking your mother's ass, Sarah!" I said, fairly shouting the words. "And it feels so good." "I want to taste it," my mother screamed to no one in particular. At first I thought she wanted to taste my cock but I started to realize she meant something else entirely. "I want you to fuck me so hard in my ass that I'll taste it for breakfast. That's what he used to say!" I assumed "he" was her dear, departed ass-fucking husband but, whatever, it was fine with me. I rammed her with greater urgency and she rose and fell with each stroke. She was so tight and while I could feel the pressure on my cock of her sphincter at each stroke, there was just the rectum void when I had my entire length in her, then the sweet sensations against my cock head as I groaned my entire manhood in and out and she took it and I let one hand free from her ass and roughly massaged her breast and her breaths grew faster and she said, "squeeze it, squeeze it!" while I fucked her and fucked her and fucked her so fast and furious I was able to watch the ripples of her ascending and descending ass flesh along with her free breast. But her breast didn't stay free for long. I was tugging and squeezing her right tit with great abandon and watching her left tit flop left and right with her exertions until, suddenly, a muscled arm crossed my vision and the left hand of Sam the handyman, in mid-fuck with my own wife, grabbed Susan's other tit and worked it while my wife rode him. "Yes, yes, yes," Susan was saying and then I could hear Sarah saying the same thing and pretty soon, they were saying it together in some primal sexual chant and I looked over at Sarah and, for the first time, noticed how her mother's chin looked so much like hers and how both mouths were half open and how both women were breathing heavily, sweat breaking out on their foreheads. Bringing Sarah Home And there was the symphony of "yes, yes, yes" and Sam and I were the conductors, our "baton's" waving inside ass holes and cunts while the music played out. I felt so hard and so long but this wouldn't go on for long. I could feel it welling up in me, in Susan and, by a quick glance, in Sam. I almost felt sorry for my dear, old wife Sarah of the great tits, the soft belly the welcoming twat and, alas, the easy virtue. She was grunting, grunting, grunting . . . "yes, yes, yes" and I pulled my hand from her mother's ass (still pounding away at her magnificent shit hole, however), touched the face of my wife eagerly fucking my neighbor then moved my hand down along her body, touching the hairy, hardened forearm of Sam in the process, and felt the soft, pliable right breast of my sweet, sweet, depraved Sarah, cupping her breast and flicking at her hard nipple. "Sarah . . ." was all I said and at that moment my wife finally made it to her happy place, her eyes rolled up and her gyrating stopped as she pushed herself further into Sam's crotch and her "yesssss" became a long, scream of release and at the same time, Sam's hand dropped from Susan's tits and he pressed against the mattress and grunted "Oh, God!" as his second orgasm exploded into my wife and she shook a second time with her second orgasm in -- what was it? -- years? And that did it for me. I gave one, two more pumps into Susan's aged hole and let my cum explode into her rectum, feeling pretty certain she would taste it for breakfast -- and maybe lunch and dinner too. It seemed to go on forever and Susan took it all like a trooper, no, like a connoisseur and just as I was finishing with my last delicious spurt, Susan came too and in an instant the feral wanting look on her face turned into accommodating grandmother which was just enough of a turn on to get me hard again so I was able to punch her bung hole for a few more strokes before I popped out. "You did it, baby," Sarah was saying to me, not to Sam. But I could see the cum-stained lips, the red nipples, the dripping cunt of my wife. Sam rolled off the bed. Susan stood up, my seed sliding down her ass and her thighs. "YOU made it happen." Maybe, I thought. But as I looked at the flushed face of my mother and the gentle smile she sent my way, I had a pretty good idea things were not going to be quite the same after this.